


blooming

by solanin



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Gender-Neutral My Unit | Byleth, Golden Deer Ending Spoilers, M/M, Multi, Spoilers, fire emblem 3h has ruined me.....my brain? gone my mental? evaporated, me at 3am: how do i get out of writing claude and byleth idk what they sound like lmao, no proofread so my bad if theres anything whack!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 03:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20221135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solanin/pseuds/solanin
Summary: The professor and the Riegan heir through the years.(Or, five instances in which the Golden Deer and others noticed Claude fall for Byleth like it's going out of style.)





	blooming

**i.**

_ Claude _ , Ignatz thought, _ was up to something. _

It started with the new professor. Ignatz, used to blending in as a second son was wont to do, noticed things and noticed them often. He knew Marianne liked to talk to her horses, that Lysithea fancied sweets, that Raphael was far more clever than he looked. So when Claude began his antics_ , _ Ignatz _ saw _. He noticed Claude’s eyes, trained on the professor during meals. He noticed Claude’s voice, growing and growing, when the professor walked into the room. He noticed Claude’s movements, waiting around corners, looking for the professor to step through the arches before walking in step behind them.

“That’ll be all for the day. I have a staff meeting, so I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow morning.” Groans and shouts echoed in response, but the Golden Deer class all knew they would be at the training fields before the professor even showed. Ignatz leaned to the side and glanced behind him.

There Claude was again. His eyes trailed after the professor as they walked out, gaze following after them like he wished to catalog their every motion to memory.

Ignatz fumbled with the charcoal between his fingers. The professor, though often less than emotive, was kind and patient. They spoke softly but directly and stayed behind for ages in the classroom to discuss tactics he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. He wouldn’t let Claude get up to his schemes with someone who didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t. Ignatz stood abruptly, the chair screeching with his sudden movement.

“Claude, could we speak?” His palms were sweating. He knew Claude wouldn’t do anything to him — anything that bad, at least. He darted a look to Hilda and Leonie. “_Alone?” _

The two of them gave him an odd look. 

“Alright,” Leonie said, cautious. She stood and grabbed Hilda by the arm despite the latter’s squawking protests. It was now or never. 

“What’s up? Is there something wrong?” Claude’s brow creased in concern, picking up on the raging turmoil within Ignatz’s heart. 

“I’ve seen you…I’ve seen you watching the professor.”

“Oh. Ignatz. I’m. I…They…” Claude shifted uneasily in his seat, fumbling for his words. Ignatz had never seen Claude at a loss for words. _ He knew it. _

“Claude!” Ignatz cringed at the shrillness of his voice. Oh, Hilda could definitely hear them from the door. “You’re not going to poison the professor!” 

“I, well, I was — Gods, Ignatz, I’m _ not _ going to poison them!“ Claude’s eyes shifted from two points above Ignatz before finally meeting his eyes. There was a growing rosiness to his skin, tinging his cheeks a warm brown. Guilt, of course. “I’m just! Teach is ...They're just a little fascinating, don’t you think? They come out of nowhere at the right time, Rhea appoints them our professor with no qualifications other than mercenary work, and they don’t so much as blink at anything I throw at them. _ Gods _ , they don’t even know how old they are. They _ don’t smile. _ Don’t you want to know _ more? _” 

Ignatz did think the professor was mysterious, as did most of the class. But Claude — Claude regarded the professor unlike the rest of them, in a way that Ignatz could not discern or touch.

“I suppose so.” he muttered. “I — I’ll be seeing you, then.”

Ignatz dashed out, almost bowling over both Leonie and Hilda in the process. He wasn’t convinced and he knew Claude knew he wasn’t. Ignatz would keep an eye on him. Claude was definitely up to no good. This was not the last of it, not at all.

**ii.**

It was true that they more often than not did not see eye to eye. Over the past few months, however, Lorenz had come to the grudging realization that Claude von Riegan was indeed a worthy rival. 

“Claude.” Lorenz eyed him accusingly. He wondered why Claude stood in front of Lorenz’s suite with_ that look _ on his face. Despite their newfound respect for each other, they rarely gathered to speak one on one. Their house leader wanted something, but _ what _?

“Lorenz! Just who I was looking for. How’s it been?” Claude gave him a wink. If Lorenz were raised a commoner, he imagined he would have rolled his eyes. Claude sighed and stepped back with his hands raised. “Gods, fine! Don’t look at me like that, jeez.” 

Lorenz continued to look at him like that. “What do you want?”

“Look, Lorenz. I know you’re our resident expert on tea. Would you mind imparting a little knowledge on little ol’ me?” There was a pleading note to Riegan heir’s voice that piqued Lorenz’s interest. Well then.

“I am pleased you have finally found it within yourself to defer to me for a proper education on the nuances of nobility. Tea time, as you may know, is a foundation of the noble lifestyle. Wars have started and houses have fallen over the flowers presented or the cutlery displayed.” If Claude were to come to him for counsel, he could plead his case to the high table of his eligibility to become the Alliance leader. Lorenz smiled, a grin curling across his face. He felt like the cats Marianne fed milk to near the dock.

“Uh, right. Teach is fond of tea time too. I was wondering if there was something I could give them beforehand. Raphael mentioned biscuits, so — ”

“Biscuits!” Lorenz erupted. The very thought of Claude bringing biscuits to their esteemed professor set his spirit ablaze. “Why, _ I never _. Bringing food is a direct insult onto the host’s ability to entertain their guests. Would you care to spit in the professor’s tea pot as well? Crumple up their serviette and toss it to the floor?” 

“No!” Claude shifted from foot to foot and tugged at his braid. Lorenz sniffed. Leaders should never be nervous. He certainly never was.

“Very well. For someone of your pedigree and your simplicity, it is best to bring flowers. Camellias, perhaps? Carnations? Eleven at most, any more is uncouth. Do _ not _forget to buy a white ribbon from the Southern merchant…” Lorenz persisted, listing each aspect of flower presentation that came to mind. Far be it from him to act bashful about the encyclopedic knowledge he harnessed while Claude closely listened, as he should. 

“Do you have any other questions?” 

“No — Hey, Lorenz. Thank you for your help, I mean it.” 

Lorenz stopped himself short of jumping when Claude’s hand came down and clasped his shoulder. Claude was not smiling, but Lorenz could sense the gratitude emanating off of him in waves. How…how foolish of him to trust a rival, Lorenz mused, though he found himself almost unwittingly giving a nod acknowledgement as the upstart walked away.

Camellias for adoration. Carnations for fascination and admiration. To think Claude von Riegan was such an unversed novice in the simplest of matters of the heart. A gentleman and romancer of Lorenz’s caliber was his only source of hope and guidance.

Claude needed all the help he could get. And who was he to deny Claude the chance for Lorenz to be the iron-handed mentor to Claude’s wayward pupil?

**iii.**

The war had changed them. There was a distance between them all now, yawning and cavernous, molded around the canyons their house had searched blindly for signs of their professor. Lysithea would never voice it, but Claude had transformed far more than the others of Golden Deer. Yes, he acted the same in many ways, joking and smiling with Leonie and Hilda when they passed through, but there was something Lysithea could not explain, a brittleness to him that did not exist before like hard candy nougat gone soft from sitting out too long. 

“My network has been telling me that there’s been talks in a town close to Gurreg Mach.” Claude began. She looked up from her book and saw the Alliance leader calmly sifting through papers.Though she only came from a lesser noble house, their territory’s strategic location meant she would see Claude more often than her other former classmates. His voice was light and unassuming in that distinctly calculated way of his. _ Oh, _she thought. 

“Yes?” 

“The villagers at the Eastern border. They’re saying someone washed up from the river. That they have seafoam hair and a glowing sword on their hip.”

“I don’t know if it’s wise to get our hopes up on a rumor.” She hated to see his eyes flicker, but she needed to be the realist. There were many, many rumors over the years, and they had all lead to dead ends and weeks of a silent and despondent Claude.

“Don’t worry. I… I saw them — in a dream. They said...” His voice trailed off. He looked to be in a trance as if still caught in what he saw last night. “Do you remember when we promised we would meet again? It’s coming soon, at the waxing moon. You’ll be there too, won’t you?”

“Yes, but — ”

“Trust me, I can feel it. I can_ feel _ them and I didn’t before, not like I do now. Please, _ please _, trust me.” There was a strong surety to his voice that made her want to cry, to believe so sincerely and so boldly. Fondness coursed through her despite the familiar grief crawling through her veins. 

“Okay,_ okay _.” She smiled, unbidden. The grin he gave in return was blinding. Lysithea felt lightheaded, weightless. His hand no longer laid like a heavy weight on her shoulder. “I’ll be there. You can count on all of us.” 

She remembered before, before the war and the church’s collapse, before the professor disappeared, when Claude seemed invincible, as sure and steady as the rising sun climbing over eastern mountains. In this moment, she thought the same glow gathered in the corners in his face.

**iv.**

Hilda bounded up the stairs to the third floor. The reconstruction of the monastery was going along swimmingly, but there was still _ so _ much that needed to be done. The monks were moving back in from the towns below and the resources were starting to stretch thin. She knew what she was doing, _ obviously _, but she needed a little more sway to get the trade agreements they needed.

“Professor? Claude? You there?” The guards said they saw them recently, so where were they? Hilda walked on, eyes squinting in the darkness of the shadowed halls of the monastery’s third floor. 

“Clau — ” Her hand slapped to her mouth, muffling the rest of her words. _ Well, well, _ she thought and pressed herself to the wall. _ What did we have here? _

The professor and their leader stood alone in the roof gardens, their backs turned from the entrance. There was something different about them now compared to five years ago, beyond Claude’s appearance and their new roles. The air gathered around them heavy and cloying, like the miasma and smoke that hung in the air after Lysithea casted a thunderbolt upon their enemies. 

Claude was speaking hurriedly to Byleth, leaned forward like the greenhouse’s flowers drawn to the light. His face had bloomed in a similar fashion and his eyes gleamed in the open sun as a smile curled on his lips. There was an unmeasured openness to his face that Hilda had never seen in all the years she had known him, not even during his greatest schemes and pranks. She felt her cheeks heat as Byleth moved closer in a similar fashion, their hand reaching out tenderly to cup Claude’s cheek. 

“Claude,” said the professor, quieting Claude’s steady stream of chatter. Their former teacher was always a person of few words, and yet there was an endlessness to what few measured sentences they gave, drawing those around them in like the moon to the tides.

Claude turned his face into Byleth’s hand. His eyes still glittered when he reached up to enclose their hands together. They swayed towards each other silently, closer, closer, closer —

Almost violently, Hilda felt a crushing wave of nauseous guilt for watching something so tender between such private people. She looked down and quickly backed away, making sure to mask the sound of her steps. This was a secret she would definitely keep. 

_ Well_, at least for now.

**v.**

He was distracted. It had been three days since Judith came to Almyra. Claude and Nader had welcomed her with a feast despite her numerous protests. The festivities died down after the second day and now, it was just her and her boy king enjoying what few moments they had between his duties. Without the guise of the food and hunts, she realized, he could not hide his temperament, his smile frail and his words empty. He paced the halls like a wild animal within a cage, regarding advisors with a shortness that left them with wide eyes and their king’s half-hearted apologies.

“You’ve been tugging at your sleeve for the past hour. Tell me what’s wrong, boy.“

“Judith, you know it’s — ”At her quelling look, he sighed. Years and years and he still thought he could get past her. He pulled up his cuff, a letter emerging and unfurling into his hands.

“It’s Byleth. They asked if I would come in the spring. I can’t.“ His voice was light and smooth, but to her trained ears, she could hear a rising emotion laced in his voice, a tremulous hopefulness that was soon snuffed by the end of his words. 

“Why not? I’m sure Nader could keep watch for you.” 

“I can’t.” he repeated. There was a mulish tilt to his smile. _ Like father, like son _, she thought. “I know I couldn’t leave if I saw them.”

Claude turned away then, refusing to look at her. The defensive pieces he had built into himself like armor seemed to be unraveling before them and she could only watch. Judith eyed the tea leaves that had settled at the bottom of her brass cup and picked at the half-eaten kahk biscuit before her.

Her boy, trying so hard. Her fierce and foolish boy, the king and leader of his people. 

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” She wondered when her voice started to sound so tired. “If there’s something you want out there, you have to grasp it before it’s too late.” 

Claude (her boy, her _ boy _) nodded, solemn. He smoothed the wrinkled and beaten letter on the table while his other hand shifted to press against his chest for the fifth time that day. Much later, she would realize that he had been clutching at a ring. 

When she woke the next morning, Nader was sat at the long wooden table in the center of her room. He looked particularly handsome in the rising light, though she could not find it in herself to appreciate the early rising traditions of Almyra. She had been a proper noble a lifetime ago, but still enjoyed the little luxuries of sleeping in.

“He’s gone,” said Nader. “He left at dawn.” 

“I see.” Judith turned towards the ceiling as he walked to her bedside. She smelled the sweet smoke on his breath and the fresh scent of wild flower that clung to his clothes after a horse ride. “They remind me of us, you know.” 

“Young? Foolhardy?” His laughter reverberated in her chest, warm and fond.

She kissed his fingertips. “In love.”

**Author's Note:**

> claude could rob me and id put on my clown costume and thank him 
> 
> are judith and nader clauder's parents? i dont know and fire emblem wont tell me


End file.
